Twice this week I heard stories about people pulling a quote from Shakespeare and using it to make a point that almost certainly was way off base from what the original intended.  But interesting conversation is always good, no? The first (thanks, amusings_bnl!) was this one:

To thine own self be true.

Everybody knows that one, right?  Apparently when looked at from the right angle, it could also mean something like this:  “As long as you think it’s ok, then go ahead and do it.”  That in turn opens up the whole interpretation of living a selfish life, only looking out for #1, and so on.  The other one I just saw on Twitter, where somebody posted:

Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!

Apparently making a statement about the state of the world today.  In this case I pointed out that in context, the “devils” really turn out to be spirit Ariel, who in fact is watching over them and does not let them come to any harm at all.  So perhaps someone with a religious bone in their body (not really my strong suit) could run with that, make some bolder statements about God and how things around us that look like darkest days actually turn out ok?  Sitting here right now I could actually imagine the priest doing that topic as a sermon on Sunday morning.  And I might actually listen :). Got any others?  Pick a quote and argue that it means what you want it to mean.

The recent conversation on iambic pentameter got me thinking about how we approach “Shakespeare”. I say it like that for a reason, because it really means two things – the man, and the work. We don’t say “the stuff Shakespeare wrote”, we just call the whole body of work “Shakespeare.”  Or, “to study Shakespeare.” But sometimes, such as the iambic discussion, the line blurs – when are you talking about the work, and when about the man, and can you draw a line between the two? Let me put it like this.  When I look at the plays, I almost always envision the characters are real people, and speak of them that way – what did Hamlet mean by this, what happened to Ophelia’s mother, did Gertrude know what Claudius did?  Likewise with the sonnets (here and here) I try to see them for their narrative (oh, Carl will love me for this…).  Maybe that’s a bad term, though, because I’m not talking about the story told by the entire sequence.  I’m talking about the picture that is painted, much like how you could see a work of art hanging on a wall and somehow feel that you could climb right inside it and stand next to the characters, have a conversation with them. Very rarely do I stop and think “Shakespeare chose this word and this punctuation for this purpose.” Sure, I do that when I’m trying to explain something to someone, as those linked posts show.  But for my own enjoyment I don’t, you know what I mean?  The sum is greater than its parts, maybe that’s how I want to say it.  I agree completely that because he chose the words and punctuation he did, that the whole work manages to explode into a whole new universe for us to explore.    But rather than studying the parts I study the whole, does that make sense? Maybe it doesn’t, I don’t know.  It’s what’s in my head right now.  I see everybody getting excited about the tricks and techniques Shakespeare used to emphasize certain syllables for certain reasons, and why there’s a full stop here but not there, and it’s like the excitement is more about the brilliance of the man, than the final product. So which is it with you?  When you speak of love for “Shakespeare” are you talking about the man or the work?  I won’t say which came first because that makes no sense, but which *comes* first, for you?  Which is greater? Somebody jump in here, I’m rambling.

I love it when I get to give away books!  This time my new friends at Sourcebooks Shakespeare (read my review here) have offered to give one of their books – your choice! – away to  *2*  ShakespeareGeek readers.  Their list of titles includes:  A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Othello, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Much Ado About Nothing, The Tempest, Richard III, and Macbeth.  (Disclaimer : I am taking that list from Amazon, I do not know for certain that all of their titles are currently in print, perhaps Marie or someone else from Sourcebooks can chime in with additional info.  I reserve the right to update this post, including contest rules, in case I’ve said something that is not in line with my benefactor’s original expectations). If you don’t feel like clicking over to my review, let me sum it up for you.  These books, while still containing a very well edited and formatted copy of the play, focus heavily on the play’s performance.  Over half the book is dedicated to images from the movies (as well as stage performances), detailed descriptions of various key scene interpretations, editor’s notes about what’s going on at that moment and why, plus the traditional glossary of terms (conveniently placed on each page right where you need it, and not in the back where you have to keep flipping for it).  That’s not even getting to the audio CD that accompanies each book.   First you read a scene from Hamlet, and then maybe you hear how Sir Derek Jacobi reads it? Hmm?  How’s that sound?  Sounds *awesome*, that’s how it sounds. Since I met Marie on Twitter, we thought it would be fun to hold the giveaway that way as well.  And since a certain well-known playwright’s birthday is coming up later this month, we might as well make that the big giveaway day. CONTEST RULES 1) Follow @ShakespeareGeek on Twitter.  I’ll need to be able to message you in case you win.  In case it wasn’t obvious, you have to be willing to provide a mailing address so we can actually send the book.  2) As the saying goes, “retweet” this specific link, swapping in the name of the book you’d prefer if you win.  You don’t have to call it “my favorite play” or anything, I just need to keep track of who is voting for which books.  Please do not just RT the main blog post, my filters may not pick it up if you do that. 3) That’s it!  I’ll keep track of contest entries and then choose 2 randomly from those received by midnight (EST), April 22.  That meaning the midnight at the close of 4/22, before 4/23, lest there be any confusion. 4) Winners will be notified by Twitter direct message (DM) so please make sure you keep that channel open and check it regularly, at least until contest winners are announced on the blog. PLEASE DO NOT FORGET STEP TWO!  It helps me separate folks who want to participate in the contest from those who are just becoming new followers.  If I add every new follower into the contest it drastically lowers your chances of winning.

LVIII

That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,
Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!
O! let me suffer, being at your beck,
The imprison'd absence of your liberty;
And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check,
Without accusing you of injury. 
Be where you list, your charter is so strong
That you yourself may privilage your time
To what you will; to you it doth belong
Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.
  I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,
  Not blame your pleasure be it ill or well.

Somebody want to break those opening lines (most notably 2,4,6,7) down for me so they fit iambic pentameter?  I can’t figure it out.

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow… A common complaint among those forced to study Shakespeare is, “Well why didn’t he just say that? Why does it have to be so complicated / use so many words / say things backward…?’” I thought I’d pick one of my favorite examples, shown above.  This is the opening line to Sonnet #2.  Like many of the other sonnets, the “procreation” ones especially, sonnet 2 offers a glimpse into the future. Any random future?  No, a very specific one – 40 years from now.  Sure, Shakespeare could have said “Some day”, and there are probably a whole bunch of “modern translations” of the sonnets that say exactly that.  But he doesn’t say it like that, does he?  Imagine a job interview or a high school guidance counselor asking you, “Where do you see yourself in the future?”   Typically they don’t.  They ask, “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”  By putting a real number up there, Shakespeare puts the future within the reader’s grasp.  Each person can imagine for themselves what life will be like in 40 years. Wait, it gets better.  Shakespeare didn’t even say “years”, did he?  After all, what’s a year?  Draw me one.  How does a year feel?  Instead he said winter.  That make a better image in your head?  I bet you could draw winter.  What’s winter feel like?  Shakespeare’s not out there sledding and making snowmen, folks.  Winter is long and cold and desolate, and you’ll be lucky to survive to see spring.  If we’re talking strictly about telling time he could just as easily have said forty summers or forty autumns, but this is why the man’s a poet.  He’s painting a picture in only a handful of words.  His point is still the same – 40 years from now.  But do you start to see how he makes it look?  If you’re an old man looking back on 40 summers you’re looking back on happy memories.  40 winters makes you think “Wow, what a long hard road that’s been.” He’s not done, oh no.  Not by a long shot.  What exactly is that winter doing?  Just coming and going, one year after the next?  Time just passing you by?  “When forty winters have gone by”?  Far from it.  You have to love the word he picks here – besiege.  Do you know what that means?  It means to attack, to wage war upon.  Besieging is what the barbarian hordes do to the castle.  More illustratively it means a never-ending, relentless attack.  In a word, Shakespeare’s managed to take this sonnet from  a still life painting of falling snow to an ongoing war, you against Time itself (in other sonnets referred to as “the guy with the scythe”). What’s the battleground for this war?  Where is Time doing its worst?  Here’s where it gets personal.  This is not a hypothetical “you against the guy with the scythe” argument, Shakespeare got a point. Time is going to play out this battle on your face, son!   What do you think happens when you get old?  You won’t be as pretty then as  you are now, let me tell you. And that, ultimately, is the point. As the story of the procreation sonnets goes, you’ve got this young and handsome guy who is so busy enjoying his life that he doesn’t have time to settle down, get married and have kids.  So where do you hit him?  In his vanity.  “Dude, see how handsome you are now?  I’ve got news for you, you’re not going to look so pretty after 40 years.  Think about it.”  Once you’ve got his attention, then you can deliver the “you should have kids, because they’ll look just like you and everybody will still appreciate how handsome you were” argument.  (Compare this logic to that of sonnet 12 where he takes a very different approach, talking about how flowers get all withered up as they get old.  Here he doesn’t talk about what happens to people in general, he comes right out in this first line and says *thy* brow.  You.  When *you* get old.) As I write this, the analysis next to the original says:  “Forty years from now when your brow is wrinkled with age.”  There’s nothing *wrong* with that.  It tells you the point, if you needed it.  But hopefully I can at least give you a glimpse at what you’re missing, and why exactly Shakespeare chooses the words he does.